


Show me your magic

by Hamulas



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Cute, M/M, People in Camelot are asses, Sad, Tragedy, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamulas/pseuds/Hamulas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Show me your magic..." </p>
<p>"Are you sure? I thought you feared it."</p>
<p> “People in town may be afraid of magic, but I’m not. I know you’re not dangerous. And I am a prince, and a prince fears nothing.”</p>
<p>Merlin has just discovered he's a magician, in a city where magic is dreaded and looked down upon. But he doesn't care, because Arthur is with him. - Merlin/Arthur AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show me your magic

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my lovely friend Vale for being an awesome beta and making a lovely photomanip for my fic. You can find it here: http://theirydioner.deviantart.com/art/Show-me-your-magic-361306116

****

**Show me your magic...**

  
  
"Show me your magic..." Arthur says, voice hoarse and breathy.

He lets himself fall in the fresh grass, trying to catch his breath after the long race up the hill. Merlin is sat beside him, his hair glued to his forehead as the light of the setting sun draws long shadows on his face. It's Arthur's twelfth birthday and he has run away from the oppressive pomp of the feast organized in his honor, dragging along his faithful friend and playmate.

"Are you sure?" the black-haired boy asks. "I thought you feared it."

Arthur shakes his head, moving his gaze on Camelot's walls and rolling closer to his friend. “People in town may be afraid of magic, but I’m not. I know you’re not dangerous. And I am a prince, and a prince fears nothing.”

Merlin shifts his gaze, uncertain. He has just discovered he's a magician, in a city where magic is dreaded and looked down upon. Yet he knows Arthur doesn't see him as someone to be scared of ; he knows he will keep the secret and he knows he can rely on him.

The brunet closes his palms together like a shell and whispers a few words, and a blue butterfly flies out his hands. It's his favorite spell.

Arthur laughs, looking at the small animal that moves lightly over their faces, and then disappears slowly. "Come on, Merlin. You can do better. Show me something worth of a prince. "

Merlin looks at him sideways while a half-smile ripples his lips. A butterfly cannot impress the great Arthur, he needs magnitude and danger, not small and delicate incantations.

“Prat” the brunet exclaims while giving life to a huge fire dragon, symbol of the Pendragon family. Arthur's eyes light up with excitement as he stares at the beast with admiration and reverence.

"It's beautiful. The best birthday gift I have received."

Merlin gets rid of the dragon and smiles, and a glimmer of pride touches his heart. Arthur does not usually express appreciation to him. After all, he's just his servant, and such he will remain until the blond prince will be pleased with him.

Voices suddenly reach their ears; voices belonging to the king's servants, sent to seek and scold Arthur for his escapade.

"I think the fun is over, Merlin" the blonde exclaims, puffing and standing up. The warlock is right next to him, cleaning up the blonde's clothes from grass and leaves. The servants arrive tired and angry; immediately taking away the prince and reminding him of his duties while leaving the humble servant alone on the hill.

But Merlin doesn't care, because shortly before disappearing inside the walls, Arthur turns around and sends him one last smile.

* * *

"Show us your magic!" Arthur says, laying an arm around his queen's shoulders.

It's the banquet in honor to the royal wedding, and the king wants to entertain Guinevere and the knights with his court magician's skills. Merlin gets up from his chair and reaches the center of the room. All the guests' eyes are focused on him and he feels uncomfortable: no one but Arthur has ever appreciated his gifts when he publicly revealed them after king Uther's death.

Many fear him, some avoid him. Arthur does not even realize how the atmosphere has chilled into the hall, for his eyes are fixed only on Merlin.

The magician makes a slight bow, wondering which spell could amaze his king and friend. He does not care about the rest of the people; they have never tried to know him.

The brunet's hands move through the air as he thinks of the small blue butterfly. He immediately discards the idea. Magnitude, valor. He must make Arthur proud.

Lights and colors chase after each other as large animals appear and breathe fire. Fire turning into delicate flowers which land next to the ladies' plates. The red dragon floats in the air for the whole time as to observe and judge Merlin's magic, until it too disappears and turns into a scarlet rose the magician gives to the queen.

Arthur is still staring at him, his eyes shining with joy as he turns to Guinevere to make sure she has enjoyed the show. And if in the other men's eyes there is still a shadow of suspicion and fear, Merlin doesn't care. Because just like when they were kids, the king has turned and given him his best smile.

* * *

"Show me your magic, Merlin" Arthur says.

This time it's an order, not a gentle request. Rumors spread in the castle, people whisper behind his back and Arthur is tired of all this. He demands the truth.

The sorcerer hesitates, shifting his gaze from the king to the crystal shining in his hands. What Merlin needs to show him will destroy his life and jeopardize his kingdom.

He knows that, he has seen it.

Betrayal. Pain. Then darkness. Visions do not go further, do not reveal much about Camelot's future, only sensations and blurred images.

Arthur looks at him, eyes filled with determination and impatience. Merlin nods, he owes it to him.

In the crystal Lancelot and Guinevere's bodies move in unison, while they perform the act of betrayal for the umpteenth time.  
The king remains motionless, staring straight ahead as the magician walks away and puts his crystal beside the bed. The silence is heavy and loud and neither of them dares to break it. Words are of no use. Not when one of the most trusted knights of Camelot has betrayed the crown, not when the Queen gave her heart to another and shared beds with him.

But Merlin is there, as always since the first time Arthur set his eyes on him and demanded him as his servant. He is there, and he is the only one to whom Arthur can show his weakness, his tears. The sorcerer is ready to wipe them one by one while he holds him in a tight embrace that Arthur does not return.

But that's alright, Merlin doesn't care. Because while they slide slowly to the ground, the king slumps into his servant's arms like he never dared to do with anybody else.

* * *

"Do you want me to show you my magic?" Merlin's voice is little more than a whisper.

He has been locked in his room for days, unable to react, trampled by events. If before people looked at him with suspicion, now he is flooded with hatred. Gone are the days when he could show his skills in the light of the day. Now he uses magic concealed, when Arthur asks him or when he's too angry to contain all his power. Arthur's visits are rare and when they occur they must be kept secret. Nobody wants to see their king approaching a magician; not after what happened. After Guinevere and Lancelot's betrayal events have gone for the worse: Arthur has only banished them, when by law they deserved death. He could not condemn them, he is too kind, too honest.

The rebels blamed they king, calling him weak and accusing him of imposing laws and then ignoring them at will. And in this time of chaos and division came Morgana, the sorceress. She did battle, destroyed villages with her magic. People who already feared the ancient gifts demanded they were banned. Nobody remembered how Merlin's magic had saved the kingdom from invaders many times along the years; so the wizard went into hiding to avoid people, their accusing gazes and the objects they would throw at him.

"Do you want me to show you my magic?" He asks again from under the blankets. Gone from his lips is the smile that could brighten the day of those who received it.

"No, Merlin. I want you to leave."

The sorcerer looks up, a mixture of anger and confusion, but above all disbelief shining in his eyes. Arthur reads that look.  
"I'm sorry. Camelot's people are scared of you and want you to be thrown into the dungeons. The guards are coming to take you away. Leave before they arrive."

Arthur walks out the room, pulling the brunet with him. In the distance, the clanking of armor announces the arrival of the knights.

"Go, now!" Arthur urges.

Merlin looks at him for a few seconds, bitter tears streaming down his face as he leaves his king with a "Goodbye" and runs away from Camelot. But Arthur doesn't care, because even if Merlin is running away out of his life, he knows within himself that one day they will meet again.

* * *

"Show me your magic." Arthur says, coughing blood.

Merlin is beside him, a hand pressed on the wound Mordred’s sword tore open. He can no longer save him, it is too late. Yet he cannot accept the idea.

"Don't talk, Arthur. Save your strength."

Arthur shakes his head. "It's too late."

He knows too there is nothing to do. But he is happy: Merlin has finally come back to him.

The magician panics, heavy tears scratching his face and clouding his vision. If only he had been faster, if only he had dealt with Morgana earlier he would have been in time to save the only person he really cared for in his life.

The battle against the sorceress and the rebels is now over and peace can finally return inside the walls of Camelot. Yet what is Camelot without its King?

The magician tries to stop the bleeding, to remove the sword fragment stuck in the blond's body...but he fails. His efforts are in vain.

"Merlin... look at me."

The warlock’s gaze follows him automatically, as if Arthur’s words were a spell.

"Show me that magic trick again, Merlin. The one you showed me when we fled from my birthday feast."

Merlin furrows his brow because he cannot remember, how can he think of such a distant past right now? Then it hits him: the great dragon and Arthur’s charmed gaze which filled his heart with pride for the first time. The warlock nods, as the fire beast morphs into the air. Arthur shakes his head slightly.

"No... Not this one. The other one. Show me your favorite spell."

And Merlin smiles through the tears.

The small blue butterfly flutters between their faces as Merlin lies his forehead on that belonging to his friend’s now still and lifeless body.

Behind him, he hears a familiar sound of metal. A blade vibrates in the air. A blade belonging to those soldiers who years before had looked at him with fear and hatred; those knights who had separated him from Arthur.

But Merlin doesn't care.

Because soon he will see his king's smile again.


End file.
